


Better Than Alright

by epersonae



Series: Aftermath [8]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Like really domestic fluff, M/M, More Costco Shopping!, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 14:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12609136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epersonae/pseuds/epersonae
Summary: Taako and Kravitz go to Costco to prepare for an intimate dinner for three, but there is a small interruption. Kravitz's hands are good for pastry. Taako thinks too much about clothes.





	Better Than Alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hops/gifts).



> Inspired by: @anonymousalchemist's Costco AU, a tumblr prompt from @hops, and the Fantasy Cheesecake Factory chapter in Down in the Valley (and the related discord chat). With wardrobe help from @emi-rose and the thingstaakowouldwear tumblr. Also, I stole the "Taako sings Jolene" bit from Reunion Tour, Rewritten.

“Rise and shine, bubeleh!” Taako is, somehow, awake before he is, and already showered and dressed? He leans down and gives Kravitz a peck on the cheek. Kravitz turns towards him, hoping for a bit more, but Taako has already stepped back and is beckoning him out of bed.

“Ah, not this morning, m’man. We've got shopping to do, big day ahead.”

“Planning a special dinner for Magnus, my love?”

“Oh, nothing _special_ , really. But I got up and realized I was missing a few things. Up for a little Fantasy Costco mish, bone daddy?”

“Didn't you just go last weekend?”

Taako shrugs and his shirt slips off one shoulder. It's adorable, and Kravitz wishes Taako were standing close enough that he could just pull him back into bed. Maybe for the rest of the morning. But he knows that look: Taako is already on a mission.

“Look, I might've forgot a few things? Taako’s not one for _lists_ or _plans_ or whatevs.”

Kravitz hums noncommittally.

“C’mon, babe, it's not like you need a shower or anything, just poof on a new suit and we'll get going?” His tone is half a second from begging, and Kravitz knows that Taako hates begging, hates anyone knowing that he has wants, needs, that he might _care_ if Kravitz wanted to come shopping with him. He steps out of bed, transforming his pinstriped silk pajamas into a grey suit with a burgundy vest. No tie, that would be too formal for Costco.

He holds out his arm, and Taako tucks a hand into the crook of his elbow.

“I'm ready if you are, dearest.”

Taako rewards him with another kiss on the cheek, and he smiles, basking in the feeling of his ancient heart beating in his undead chest.

 

Taako pushes the cart directly to the wine and beer section and pulls to a sharp stop in front of the non-beer bottled drinks: fantasy Zima, fake margarita abominations, and the cider. Ah, of course. Taako frowns and purses his lips, scanning up and down the racking. Finally he makes a little popping sound, nods, and a case pushes itself from a shelf above their heads. It gently floats down to where Taako can guide it into the cart. He gives an exaggerated sigh and flicks a fingertip at the label art: a cartoon robit with mismatched arms, giant guns, and a startlingly sweet smile.

“I can't believe they commercialized her like that,” he says with a tone of mock disgust.

“Dearest, I don't think you have room to talk,” replies Kravitz, considering the truly strange array of goods bearing his beloved’s likeness.

Taako huffs as he sets the case the rest of the way down.

“It's not even their best cider,” he says. “I ask you, how is that a fitting tribute to her memory?”

“Mm-hmm.” He'd ask why Taako had picked it, if the NO-3113 wasn't the best Redcheek brand cider at Fantasy Costco, but he already knows, and now he knows why Taako hadn't gotten it when he went shopping with the old crew. It's Magnus’s absolute favorite, and he would have had to ask Magnus to get it down for him, and then Magnus would know that Taako was buying it. Kravitz sighed. “What else do we need to get?”

Taako tilted his head and stuck out his tongue. He tapped his feet a few times. Kravitz leaned over and kissed his ear, tipping his hat askew.

“Mmm, don't distract me, my dude.” But then he turned to look at Kravitz and he was a bit flushed and smiling.

“Don't deserve you, skeletor.”

“Whatever you say, my love.”

Taako's blush deepened, and he pulled away abruptly.

“Ok ok, that's enough of that. Spices!”

 

Taako is in the middle of haggling over the price of a vat of turmeric when Kravitz hears his stone ring.

“Sorry, I need to take this.”

But Taako just waves dismissively and continues arguing with the unnervingly energetic Garfield as Kravitz walks to another aisle. It's Lup, loud and fast and furious, she needs him there right away. Something about a whole cult of necromancers? At Fantasy Cheesecake Factory? Well, that's new. But pretty normal for his line of work, honestly. And it's nice to have new help that's so enthusiastic and competent.

He gives Taako his apologies for abandoning him at Fantasy Costco, promises to be home soon, gives a distracted kiss on the forehead, and tears a portal into a dim and moody restaurant.

 

When he gets done with work, and after Lup talks him and Barry into splitting an entire cheesecake “after all it'll just go bad if we don't eat it, babes, live a little”, he slices a portal with his scythe back home, right into the kitchen. Taako doesn’t notice him at first, so Kravitz gets to do one of his favorite things: stand quietly in the doorway and watch him cook. In this case, he's rolling out pastry dough, methodically rolling, folding, and rolling again, [singing something](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12279234) absolutely gorgeous in a voice at least an octave below his normal voice. He's swaying in time with his own singing, and it's so beautiful that Kravitz sighs, overwhelmed, again, as always, by his own dumb luck.

Taako turns, and he's wearing a neon green apron, patterned with lime and yellow-colored lips, bedazzled with the words “kiss the cook's ass”, and there's a streak of flour on his cheek, and he's dropped the usual Disguise Self, but he's such a treat to look at that Kravitz grins, entirely helpless. Taako cocks a hip and sticks out his tongue.

“Just gonna stand and stare, skull face?”

Kravitz startles and touches his own cheek.

“Oh gods, I'm not still….”

“Naw, you're good, handsome as always, I'm just joshing with you. Oh, actually! You're just in time, come over here, put those icy digits on the pastry before I roll it again.” Taako drags him over, getting flour on his cuffs as he presses his hands onto the dough. He leans in close, getting even more flour on his suit, not that Kravitz actually minds. Taako smells delicious; he buries his face in Taako’s hair and sighs.

“Don’t warm up too much; dough needs those cold cold hands.” He pauses, sniffs. “Where’d you say Lup was calling from?”

“Mmmm. Fantasy Cheesecake Factory, why?”

Taako pulls away, looks at him with a sharp disapproving frown.

“My dude.”

“Hm?”

“Kravs, babe. Fantasy Cheesecake Factory? Really?”

“Oh. Yeah. Um, it was Lup’s idea, something about not letting food go to waste? Was pretty good, actually.”

“Kravitz.” He shakes his head, tsking, still playful but with an edge to it. “I’ll make you a real cheesecake. And sounds like I need to have a little _chat_ with Lup.”

“Of course, dear.” He smiles fondly at Taako. “Is this chilled enough?” Taako pokes at the buttery surface with his fingertip.

“That’ll do, thanks skellington. Kiss?” He leans in for a proper kiss: how is it already afternoon and they haven’t really kissed yet today? Taako throws his arms around him and Kravitz dips him, still kissing. When they finally let go, Kravitz is grinning and Taako has the shyest smile as he blinks: tears, maybe, almost?

“I’ll get the table set?”

“No, actually, could you chop some carrots for me?”

“Sure. Big chunks? Not too fine?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” So it’s going to be meat pies, made exactly the way Magnus likes them, not that Kravitz doesn’t also like Taako’s meat pie, as much as anything else Taako makes. It’s all delicious, if honestly he’s even now still getting used to staying in this form long enough to eat and enjoy food. But it’s one of those foods that goes back to the old times, the ones that Taako never talks about, the things he has to guess or intuit, or very occasionally ask Lup or Magnus or Barry about directly. “Oh, he didn’t tell you? That’s….” And then there’s a long complicated story, something that was too small to make it into Lucretia’s journals, too intertwined with emotion and sense memory to be understandable from what had learned all at once on that day. This one he knows, though: there’s a handful of things that Taako really only cooks if it’s going to be the three of them, and Kravitz has learned to cherish them all.

 

The pies are in the oven, the ciders are in the cooler, the table is set, the house is tidy, and Taako is camped out in front of his closet, staring uneasily at half a dozen outfits. He's already tried on a full dozen and discarded half, but can't decide between what remains.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, an edge of nerves coloring his voice.

Kravitz looks down at his rumpled and flour-streaked suit, closes his eyes and blinks a new outfit into being. Black just a shade off of true, a bit of brocade: something to draw the eyes - and hands - vest and tie to match, with a silky black shirt. Texture is an important aspect of these evenings, he's learned.

Taako hums appreciatively.

“How are you such a nerd and still have such perfect taste?” Then he sighs. “But now I deffo don't know what to wear.”

“You look amazing in anything.”

“Or nothing, I know.” He preens. “And Maggie's just gonna show up in flannel or some shit. How can I possibly….”

He puts back the [ silky pink suit ](https://thingstaakowouldwear.tumblr.com/post/166783224424) (“if we’re both too formal it’s just weird, bubeleh”), the [ brocaded pants ](https://thingstaakowouldwear.tumblr.com/post/166748632122/garoses-sergei-polunin-vogue-russia-by) (“don’t know which shirt works with that today”), the [ embroidered boots ](https://thingstaakowouldwear.tumblr.com/post/167009300801/fashionsfromhistory-boots-jerry-edouard) (“too much work when I have to take ‘em off later”). He picks at the [ sparkling silver and black shirt with the black pants ](https://thingstaakowouldwear.tumblr.com/post/166705510462) (“oh babe someday we’ll have to go out in these together”). Finally he puts on [ layer after layer of impossibly soft grey and mauve and lavender, topped with a long fuzzy off-white sweater ](https://thingstaakowouldwear.tumblr.com/post/164966343067/zodiacbunnyleo-crowrunner-dressed-like-a). “Cozy enough for the man of flannel, but still a good contrast with my dapper fella.”

Kravitz imagines the slow unwrapping of all those layers, the feel of the soft warmth in his hands.

The doorbell rings. Taako looks at him, biting his lower lip.

“This is cool? Really?” His eyes are full of nervous energy. “It’s alright?”

He reaches out to touch Taako’s cheek. “Of course.” He holds Taako close, feels his radiating heat, the fluttering beat of his heart. Alive, so incredibly alive. “Better than alright.”

“Then go get the door, goofus.” And he slips out of Kravitz’s arms, darts down the stairs, throws open the door. “Magnus, dollface, get your ass in here, dinner’s almost ready!”

Kravitz comes down the stairs slowly, smiling, taking a moment to just drink in the sight of them, letting himself bask in their happiness. Again, his own heart stirs to life, and it’s exactly what he’d never known he needed, but now it’s exactly what he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the sappiest most romantic thing I've ever written in my entire goddamn life. And I'm ok with that.


End file.
